


Taste Of A Poison Paradise

by artificial_ink



Series: Rules of Attraction [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Archive worker Darcy Lewis, Awkward Flirting, Between a Brock and a Britney Stan, Brock likes Darcy more than he lets on, Darcy is bad at distractions, Darcy is engaged, F/M, Infidelity, SHIELD Agent Darcy Lewis, Terrible Spywork, but it's not going all that well, but will do anything for Britney Spears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 14:56:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14167356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificial_ink/pseuds/artificial_ink
Summary: All because Darcy works for a super secret organization that partakes in Frat-like buffoonery, she has to face Brock Rumlow head on. She is not properly trained for this.





	Taste Of A Poison Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> The first prequel to Mansion! I have a few more fics for this series that take place before Mansion but I have terrible luck writing things in order so bear with the time jumping. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who enjoyed Mansion and encouraged me to continue this series <3
> 
> Also, I made a playlist for this 'verse if anyone wants to listen to some fun songs while reading. NSFW, just FYI.
> 
> [Addicted To Love](http://8tracks.com/artificialink/addicted-to-love?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) from [artificialink](http://8tracks.com/artificialink?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) on [8tracks Radio](http://8tracks.com?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button).

 

Peering around the corner of the hall, Darcy takes in Brock Rumlow’s profile. He’s standing tall with purpose, hands on the small of his back and feet splayed slightly apart like a soldier at ease. There’s a slight clench in his shoulder muscles, as if he’s prepared for any danger that could head his way. His crisscross gun holster is clearly visible, shouting to the world that he’s armed and dangerous as fuck. Technically his gun is more dangerous than his cheekbones but Darcy must admit they’re a close second. Though it’s his muscles and air of a lethal jaguar that have made him the leader of STRIKE Team Alpha. 

All this tightly packaged rage and intent equals Brock Rumlow: ready to take down an enemy field agent. Yet, he’s only standing in a Triskelion hallway in front of Agent Sitwell’s office. Which also happens to be three doors down from Agent Hand’s office and that is Darcy’s true dilemma. 

Taking solace once more behind the corner, Darcy turns to her partners in crime and tries her best to convey the complete terror running through her veins without a word. Her face is probably more of a horrified scowl like when the victim of a horror movie finds out she played right into the killer’s plan. This metaphor fits her emotions quite well. Her partners, Veronica and Trent, are not moved in the slightest. Veronica, with her lightly tanned but heavily freckled skin and wildly curly hair, looks a little jealous actually. To be fair, the girl’s a major horn dog and has drooled over every member of Strike Team Alpha. Despite this, she is a loyal friend and made the days down in the archives go by fast with her jokes. Trent, on the other hand, is fierce like a warrior. His Greek features make him look like a handsome brunette god most days but are currently twisted into a glare. There’s no swaying him from this scheme.   

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Darcy starts to twirl her engagement ring around in what she knows is an obvious tell. She understands their lack of compassion, though. Britney Spears tickets are on the line. Admittedly, it _is_ kind of her fault that they are stuck in Victoria Hand’s office, which as of 4 PM today, is now a ‘crime scene’. Technically, the weakest of crimes because this week is apparently ‘prank week’ for the upper level agents of SHIELD. Because that’s where Darcy works now. A super secret organization that partakes in Frat level buffoonery. The last upper level Agent to successfully hold some stupid mini trophy and hide it on SHIELD property, won bragging rights for a whole year. It gets pretty intense, according to Trent, whose been working at SHIELD for the better part of 5 years. Only Level 8s and up are able to compete but, even then, it was mostly only handlers that played. Some had even begun to team up the past couple years and things had gotten…juvenile. 

Darcy had been in Agent Hand’s office, dropping off some reports on data analysis when the alarm when off. The alarm being Agent Sitwell rushing into Agent Hand’s office and making a huge fuss about how she stole the trophy illegally with use of a Level 4 agent. It’s been touch and go ever since down this hall. Some of the Level 8s and up are even now having some stupid meeting about it and Victoria is clearing all charges against her good name but until then, no one is allowed in and out of the rooms in this hall. And because STRIKE Alpha had nothing better to do than pamper to their handler’s whims, the bastards have been taking turns patrolling the hall. Of course, only the agents that hadn’t signed up to play are patrolling but it’s still suspect in Darcy’s eyes.  

It is now Brock’s round and he’s obviously taken it quite seriously. If only Sitwell had waited until after Darcy left the office to rush in. She had the Britney tickets in an envelope in one hand and the files in the another. Her plan of meeting up with Veronica and Trent after her last task was foiled once Hand’s bustling office was thrust into chaos. All Darcy had wanted was to head to the airport for drinks and a plane ride to Vegas. Instead, she’d accidentally dropped the tickets in the confusion Sitwell had created (if anyone wanted Darcy’s opinion, which they didn’t, she’s sure it was Sitwell that used a Level 4 agent). 

This convoluted series of events led Darcy to where she is now, frowning at the only two friends she’s made at SHIELD in the last 3 months. Really, she can’t afford to lose them but she’s not entirely sure why she needs to be the one distracting Brock while Veronica runs into the office to find the tickets. Darcy’s the one that has a vague idea of where they are and Trent is assistant handler to STRIKE Alpha (which mostly means he’s a glorified wrangler of the A-est of A types and does the day-to-day nitty gritty Sitwell doesn’t want to). Of course, Trent pulled out the ‘I can’t risk damaging my trust with STRIKE’ and Veronica always wished she could leave the archives to spy it up. And honestly, Trent almost slapped Darcy for losing the tickets so Darcy’s kind of between a rock (Brock) and a Britney Stan. She doesn’t actually have a choice if she values her life. Also, she really wants to see Britney’s Vegas show and get her _Toxic_ on. They’re already cutting deep into airport drink time.  Boy, does Darcy need a lot of drinks when explaining this all to Ian tonight. 

To be fair to Trent and Veronica, they actually hatched a pretty good plan. Darcy distracts Brock while Trent stalls the cameras and remotely unlocks Hand’s door as Veronica sneaks into the office. Trent, knowing all the strengths and weaknesses of STRIKE, or so he insists, gave Darcy some talking points for Brock. Mostly gym tips and oddly enough, Dutch still life art. The gym tips are obviously an insult because Darcy does not abide by the mandatory 3-hour gym rule as expected of all SHIELD agents but she will let it pass given today’s circumstances. Veronica's only suggestion was for Darcy to tug down the neckline of her blouse, which really only leaves her with Trent’s suggestions as viable because Brock would definitely not be interested if she flirted with him. He’s never given her a second glance. Not that Darcy’s noticed. Not at all with the ring on her finger. 

Squaring her shoulders, she turns to face the corner but before she can work up the nerve, is shoved by Veronica and Trent. As she stumbles out into the open, a rather undignified squawk is forced from her. It clearly earns Brock’s attention.

“Darcy?” Brock asks after a moment while Darcy regains her balance. She stands up straight, surprised Brock even remembers her name from the one time Trent hastily introduced her. Clearing her throat, she turns towards Brock and offers him an innocent smile that may be more of a panicked grimace. 

“Rumlow…right?” Darcy pretend guesses and Brock just raises an eyebrow in her direction because they both know she knows who he is. 

“What are you doing up here? Aren’t you normally hidden in the archives?” Brock asks, rumbling voice not revealing anything of his inner thoughts.

“A girl needs some air now and again,” Darcy shrugs, slowly making her way towards him. ‘Nonchalant, be nonchalant’ she tells herself right before wincing because you don’t say ‘nonchalant’ constantly in your head when you’re trying to embody it. 

“And you find the air on this floor…better than fresh air?” Brock asks, fighting a smile and head quirking slightly as if he’s trying to figure out her true motives. Oh god, her back is sweating. Ian is right, she’s shit at lying and would make a terrible field agent. Still, she’d like to try and prove her fiancé wrong on occasion and surprise him. That’s what kept relationships sizzling: occasional surprises. 

“You got me!” Darcy shoots little finger guns at him in lieu of twirling her engagement ring. “I’ve been looking for you, actually.” 

“Me?” Brock asks in disbelief and what Darcy is sure she mistakes as a hint of hope. Her stomach twists and she wants to throw up when his eyes drift slowly to the twinkling ring as he takes her in. Darcy feels her face heating up. The ring is a family heirloom from Ian’s mother’s side and his grannie almost didn’t give it up to a Yankee. Especially one that that left for the States as the wedding planning commenced. To be fair, Ian wasn’t going to move to the States and Darcy’s visa in the UK was ending. Unfortunately, none of the Brits wanted to hire her and Ian would be disowned if he had a hasty visa wedding. So, they were waiting for the legit wedding because Ian isn’t going to give up his new prestigious SHIELD research job in London, even if he could easily transfer to a State’s lab. SHIELD archive positions didn’t open up in London all that often, so Darcy was left in the States waiting for one of those British coots to die off.

Whatever, she’s cool eventually moving to London because they have cooler clothes that fit her better. Also Ian, obviously. And because the research team Ian joined is his dream and blah, blah, when he’s happy she’s happy. But, it isn’t going to do well on her part thinking about the little arguments with Ian that are growing in frequency. She has a mission and it’s staring at her with deep hazel eyes and a furrowed brow. Darcy looks up at Brock and offers a blasé shrug but inside she’s freaking out because he’s still facing the wrong way. 

‘It’s Britney, Bitch’, Darcy just tells herself while ignoring the frantic pounding of her heart. She puts her hands behind her back and walks to his other side but only his head follows her. 

“Yep, you,” Darcy says in a strangled tone and realizes she’s already run out of things to talk about. The list given to her flies out of her head and she can practically see Trent mimicking pounding his head against the wall. Why couldn’t this be Rollins? All she’d have to say was ‘Nine Inch Nails is overrated’ and he’d go on a fifteen minute rant. “Uh…I- how are things?” 

“Good,” Brock says curtly and Darcy feels her stomach drop. He thinks she’s an idiot. He’s always thought she was an idiot. They’ve been near each other 7 times now and each time she’d made a complete fool of herself by either tripping on air or just babbling like a fool. There was also one time he watched her perform Britney Spears’ _I’m A Slave 4 U_ routine because she thought she was alone in the archives. Then Darcy crashed into a filing cabinet when Brock made his presence known. She still blames that on Trent because him teaching Darcy dance routines have been the only way he’d been able to get her to successfully exercise. Either way, she’s always babbling or falling whenever Brock walks by. Jury’s still out on which one _this_ interaction will be. “You were looking for me to just ask how I was?”

“Can’t I be invested in you?” Darcy asks and knows immediately that’s the wrong thing to say. Especially when it’s coupled with her reaching out and touching his peck. She pulls her hand back like it’s been burned and his eyebrows rise to his hairline as Brock swings his body so he’s facing her head on. Well, at least that worked out for her. “I mean, in a human race way. I am invested in the human race in general. That’s what SHIELD’s about, right? Safety? Security? And safety hinges on our ability to protect people and I’m obviously crap at the physical part of it, _so_ do you have any gym tips?” 

“My first tip would be going to the gym,” Brock says in a mildly fond tone. Honestly, it’s more of a tone that a Southern belle puts on when blessing someone’s heart. Darcy’s chest cinches. She knows she shouldn’t care about what he thinks about her but somehow, it’s really important. A sick feeling forms in the pit of Darcy’s stomach whenever she considers how much of a joke Brock Rumlow must think she is. She actually feels worse than the time Ian’s surprise birthday went balls up and that’s not something she really wants to dwell on because why would a practical stranger cause more theoretical emotional distress than her fiancé? She just tells herself that it’s because he’s a stranger and she knows Ian will love her no matter what. Yeah. That’s logical. 

“Okay…that’s a good one. So, as a gym newbie, what would you say I start off on? _Treadmill_?” Darcy asks and there’s the code word. Because yeah, Trent and Veronica came up with code words. Treadmill for when Brock was facing away from Hand’s door for Veronica’s entrance. From the corner of her eye, Darcy can see Veronica sneaking down the hall. If the way she’s crouching is any indication, it’s obvious the Mission Impossible theme song is running through her head. Darcy does her best to keep her eyes focused on Brock’s face but she could be staring too much at him now, so maybe it’s backfiring. 

“Treadmill’s always good. Helps build stamina,” Brock purses his lips in slight thought and it’s kind of sweet he’s actually giving this legitimate consideration. “But you want to focus on full body for a good work out. If your goal is to protect people. You tryin’ to become a field agent?” 

“Uh…honestly I think I’d be terrible in the field,” Darcy admits and it’s probably the first true thing she’s said to him. Her shoulders drop as she exhales because this is really hard. How do people do this for a living and not get killed? Sure, she’s battled aliens twice now but that seems pretty straight forward in comparison to trying to manipulate another person. Something in Brock’s eyes soften as he stares down on Darcy and she feels a flutter in her stomach that has no right being there. It’s probably indigestion. 

“Why are you really here?” Brock asks softly, not quite berating her but also not accepting her previous explanation of sudden interest in the gym. He fixes Darcy with a surprisingly kind expression, as if it was obvious she could tell him her deepest secrets. And she kind of wants to tell him even if she doesn’t yet know what the deepest secret is. This must be a spy thing. Some look they learn in training. Trent did not prepare her for this. Just as Darcy comes up with a deflecting question, the lock on Agent Hand’s door disengages with a click that reverberates through the quiet hall. Brock begins to turn his head and as adrenaline rushes through her, Darcy places both her hands on Brock’s chest. 

“I don’t know,” Darcy blurts out and it’s partly true because she’s not sure why she keeps touching him. She can’t help but notice that he’s firm and warm underneath his tight, black SHIELD issued shirt. A light shiver runs down her spine. Brock’s eyes widen before darting to her ring again. Darcy’s stomach rises and falls as if she’s experiencing several rough dips on a tiny plane. She wants to be thinking about Ian- _knows_ she should be thinking about Ian but instead can’t help but think about the ring of green in Brock’s eyes. Exhaling a long breath, Darcy tries to grasp onto a coherent and appropriate thought out of any of the ones now speeding through her head. When she remembers Britney is on the line, she finds a thread of clarity and realizes that Brock has taken a step closer to her. His hands are hovering over her hips and his searing body heat ignites her skin. 

Leaning down his head, Brock asks “You sure you want to do this?” His words are a whisper in Darcy’s ear and her entire body hums in response, begging for more. But this is literally the worst thing she could be doing right now. Spy mission or not, she loves Ian. Her fiancé. The man she fully intends on marrying and moving to another country for because they want a family and…and now Brock is lightly nuzzling her cheek. Her nails begin to dig into his shirt ever so slightly because holy shit that feels really nice. Shallow breaths flow in and out of Darcy’s lungs. Brock’s hands gently grip Darcy’s hips. He takes half a step and their bodies are pressed against each other. Closing her eyes to enjoy the feel of a warm, strong body next to hers, Darcy sighs. It’s been a while since she’s just been held and she forgot how much she missed it. Brock’s face is completely buried in the crook of Darcy’s neck when she opens her eyes to find Veronica standing in front of Agent Hand’s door. The tickets are in her hand but she has a manic look of sheer joy as she watches Darcy being lightly mauled by the SRIKE Alpha leader. Nodding her head lavishly, Veronica’s body undulates slowly in a mocking suggestion of sex. 

If Darcy could find better friends, she would but right now, Veronica and Trent are all she has. They actually are loads of fun when they aren’t getting her into life threatening situations. Darcy is 100% certain that being held in Brock Rumlow’s arms, while Veronica stands behind him suggesting Darcy have sex on Sitwell’s office door, constitutes as life threatening if anyone involved is caught. 

With one look, Darcy does her best to convey that Veronica needs to shut her silent mouth as well as Hand’s door and run back down the hall. Veronica finally does this with an exaggerated wink but forgets about the click of the door as it locks. Under her hands, Darcy can feel Brock’s body stiffen at the noise but just as his head lifts, she feels another burst of adrenaline and does what her body naturally wants to. 

Using a hand to cup Brock’s cheek, Darcy stands on her toes and kisses him. She doesn’t mean for the kiss to be much more than a chaste brushing of lips. One of Rumlow’s hands moves to the small of her back and smashes her body even closer against his before she can break away. When he bites her bottom lip and tugs, a yearning, sorrowful sound escapes from the depths of Darcy’s gut because when was the last time she was kissed like this? Brock’s other hand tangles into Darcy’s hair as he guides her up against the wall. Darcy’s mouth opens and Brock doesn’t need any other invitation to deepen the kiss. Their tongues tangle and Darcy clenches his shirt and the leather holsters in her fists because even with the wall behind her, she still feels like she might collapse in a incoherent heap if she doesn’t grab onto something. Brock kisses her like he’s a man dying of thirst and she’s an oasis in the middle of a desert. He kisses her like he cherishes her and that breaks Darcy’s heart just a little. 

Brock groans into Darcy’s mouth and she can feel it right in her bones. Liquid, molten heat starts to swirl inside her body. All she wants to do is wrap her legs around Brock’s waist, to run her hands under his shirt and drag her nails down his back. She lets out a painful, vulnerable sigh when they break apart. Brock heaves into her neck as he catches his breath. 

Reality comes crashing down during this reprieve when a large group of voices are heard down the opposite end of the hall. The meeting has obviously let up and the Agents are no where near a satisfactory conclusion if their loud argument is anything to go by. Brock straightens at the noise and steps away but keeps his hands on Darcy’s waist. He looks torn, as if he can’t decide whether to drag Darcy into another room to continue or if he should just pretend he never waned from his post in the hall. 

Darcy makes the decision for him. 

“I guess I should go. I have a…thing this weekend. Girl’s weekend. We’re seeing Britney Spears and she’s kind of like my idol and I can’t miss the flight,” Darcy explains. She’s not even sure why Brock needs the true explanation. A flash of disappointment shines in Brock’s eyes as he takes in the awkwardness that’s now re-enveloped Darcy. 

Shit. This is not good. Her skin’s still burning and all she wants is to rip off Brock’s clothes, then hers. How is she going to explain this to Ian? Should she even mention it to him? She starts to twirl the engagement ring around her finger and Brock’s face settles into a hard mask. Darcy’s not sure if she wants to know what he’s thinking but she doesn’t have to time to try and figure it out either way. Brock’s hands drop away from Darcy’s waist and the voices are too close for comfort now. So she runs away from Brock without a second glance as her heart lodges in her throat. 

When Darcy rounds the safe corner, she finds Trent and Veronica with wide, delighted eyes and large, ridiculous grins. Their chests expand as they inhale with a slew of questions or comments. They’ve never been all that impressed with Ian and were encouraging Darcy to explore a little bit before she decided to settle down. Instead of risking them giving away their position (and her own sanity for listening to them ask how much better Brock is than Ian) she grabs each of their hands and drags them towards the elevator. There definitely will be some talking about this and her betrayal but she is going to need booze first. Brock’s taste still lingers on her tongue and she can swear his breath is warming her neck. Darcy’s not sure if Britney Spears is worth a broken engagement but she’s certain that Trent would agree it is. 

“Next time Trent, you’re kissing Rumlow,” Darcy chooses to say once they’re safely ensconced in the elevator and the doors have closed. 

“Believe me, I would if he let me,” Trent scoffs but there’s a proud smile on his lips. “I knew you had it in you.” 

“While I’m sure we could fill this whole trip with discussions of how Brock lost his mind and decided to slum it with me,” says Darcy, ignoring the protests already forming on the tips of her friends’ tongues, “can we focus on the fact that we have an hour to make it to the airport and get to our gate?”

“Shit, that’s true,” Veronica pouts. “But once we’re on the plane, you’re telling me how Rumlow kisses. With loads of detail and metaphors.” 

“Fine but can we just…pretend that this won’t potentially ruin my engagement?” Darcy begs.

“You really think we’re going to tell your stick bug of a fiancé that you upgraded?” laughs Trent as the elevator reaches the ground floor. It’s a sharp bark of disbelief. When Darcy sends him a death glare, he just shrugs and makes his way off the elevator. “Look, the kiss was for Britney purposes and Ms. Spears would certainly forgive you, so I think Ian can get over it. But like hell we’re going to actually open up communication with him to tell him this.” 

“How many drinks before you tell me what the kiss was like?” Veronica asks with cheer, skipping along behind Darcy. 

“Three margaritas,” admits Darcy and she kind of wants to giggle at the memory despite the potential of her future crashing all around her. Instead of focusing on the disaster she would have to face if Ian ever finds out, Darcy thinks about the Britney Spears show and how many drinks she will need to forget how Brock’s body felt so, so perfect against hers. 

It’s been a long time since she and Ian were in the same room. She is obviously just a little desperate for human affection. That’s normal in long distance relationships but she and Ian’s relationship is strong. A little secret kiss won’t destroy them. Besides, Brock will forget about it within a week and move onto whatever beautiful woman catches his eye. The world shall spin as usual and Darcy will still marry her British nerd.

‘Everything is fine’, Darcy tells herself. As she begins to hum along to the tune of _I’m A Slave 4 U_ , she swears to the niggling voice in the back of her head that she’s singing about Ian and leaves it at that. Ian is everything she’s never dated before. Sweet, awkward and a genuinely decent human being. Really, _he’s_ the upgrade from the losers she used to date. What else would a girl want to settle for? In 4 more months, Darcy will be married and Brock Rumlow will be just a faint memory while this Britney concerns is going to live on in her mind forever. Priorities newly straightened, Darcy finds herself in a state of calm while they rush to Trent’s SUV. 

 

 


End file.
